


Have You Ever Seen A Dragon?

by medusaoblongata



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7024966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusaoblongata/pseuds/medusaoblongata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanzo Shimada happens upon a target, but things don't go quite as planned. Less death more le petite morte.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have You Ever Seen A Dragon?

It was a beautiful place to be certain, old architecture forming the rustic pagodas, carefully maintained gardens spread between the stonework. Cherry blossoms drifted to the ground, twirling as they went, and the guests to the gala moved among them like dancers, drinking, laughing. A beautiful place for a grand event, the political gathering of the year. All the movers and shakers brought together to display their wealth and mingle with one another over expensive champagne and delicacies. I, however, was haunted by a sense of unease. Like an itch that refused to be scratched, until I finally bid the pair of debutantes goodbye and slipped off a side path, further into the immaculate gardens.

My heels clicked against the stone path, movements constricted by the floor-length sheath dress that glittered in subtle amber hues as I moved. Further and further in, searching for quiet; for somewhere away from the noise and the energy of the crowd. And finally, I found it, a small shrine hidden deep in the cherry grove, the ancient woodwork carved with designs of dragons and characters that I couldn’t decipher. I came to a halt, carefully sweeping up my skirts and then stepping inside, levering myself down onto the small stone bench within and letting my eyes fall shut. Alone, in silence, finally the noise in my head began to subside, fading away into the soothing curve of the breeze along my skin and the smell of the blossoms filling the air. 

How long I was there I couldn’t say--nor do I know how long he was watching me. I simply returned to the present to find a solid, stern body behind me, one strong hand touching my shoulder gently as if to wake me. 

“You should be with the others.” His voice was low and firm, each syllable pronounced with exacting perfection. “This place is not meant for tourists.” He moved from behind me, stalking toward the altar with precise, sharp steps, hand brushing away the dust there before he turned to face me head-on, brown eyes burning into mine.   
“I-,” I began, startled by his appearance but even more off-put by how devastatingly handsome the stranger was, beard kept neat with the hints of gray proudly displayed, long hair tied back into a tail. His traditional garb did little to hide the muscular nature of his build and he noticed the way my gaze lingered, a frown sliding onto his face.  
“Do not apologize. Be on your way,” he instructed, though I was aware that he was returning the gesture, his eyes sliding down to my low-cut evening gown and then back to my face. 

“What if I don’t wish to leave?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, chin tilting up defiantly at this man who wished to evict me from my peace. 

“Then -I- will escort you,” he snapped, though his tone was softened by the slight smirk that slid across his face. 

“Please. I--I need this quiet for a while,” I nearly begged, pushing myself up and letting the gown slide down my legs once more. “I won’t destroy anything.”

He considered me for a long moment and then extended his hand. I placed mine in his, his fingers wrapping about mine coolly, his distance evident in his posture.   
“Very well. Walk with me.” It was more of a command than an invitation and I found myself being escorted deeper into the grounds as my sudden host explained the history of each building we passed and the origin of each of the exquisite pieces of sculpture that rested among the trees. His voice was soothing, the low baritone sliding along my skin in a pleasant way, his grip softening with time and then we stopped, the sudden ending of the motion nearly making me stumble. We stood before a wall scroll of two massive dragons encircling each other, teeth bared, flames licking along their skin. He released my arm and stepped forward, bowing his head toward the artwork in almost respectful deference. 

“Tell me. Have you ever seen a dragon?”  
I was stunned for a moment by the sincerity in his voice. I ran through several clever remarks before settling back on a muffled ‘no’ and mentally kicking myself for being so awkward. 

“Perhaps one day,” he mused and then he turned back toward me, something calculating and predatory seeping into his expression. I flinched, abruptly aware for the first time that privacy and silence may have been my undoing. “I was hoping you would attend this evening, but you certainly made my work far easier than I expected.”  
My jaw seemed to lock, lips pressing together as the sudden flush of adrenaline surged through my body, skin abruptly flushed. 

“You have disturbed the balance,” he remarked calmly, stalking toward me as I forced myself to meet his gaze, blue eyes wide. “And for that I have been tasked with repairing what you have done.” One hand reached forward, two calloused fingers coming to rest beneath my chin, tipping my face up toward his. “I am sure you foresaw this possibility.”

I made my move then, shoving his chest and turning, bolting out the way we’d come, heels clicking on the stones. He didn’t offer chase, though a low roar of laughter followed me as I stumbled and slid off into the dusk-darkened gardens. It was not to offer much solace, however, because soon my shoes betrayed me, sending me tumbling into a patch of neatly-tended grass in a heap of finery and nerves. I struggled onto my knees and dragged in a breath to keep going and then suddenly there was a long carbon-fibre arrow beside my hand, the point buried in the ground, the shaft pinned neatly through my golden bangles. My shoulders slumped, heart jumping in my chest, fear keeping me trapped even as my fingers slid sideways to wrap around the bolt. 

“It does not seem quite fair,” came that baritone voice, neat footsteps stalking nearer and then I could feel the warmth and bulk of his body behind me. I whipped around, the arrow clenched in my fist, trying to drive it into his flesh. Instead I was knocked flat, neatly disarmed with a slap of his hand against my wrist before he trapped my arms above my head, staring down into my face. “Ah. The little mouse decides to show her teeth.” 

His proximity was having unexpected effects, my cheeks flushing a dark red as I fought the urge to lift my face toward his, hips shifting uneasily. One of his eyebrows rose and he used his free hand to tilt my face from side to side. 

“You do not seem afraid,” he observed dryly. Then I found myself heaved up and over his shoulder, one of his hands planted firmly on my ass as he strode off. A short journey and then we were indoors and I was being deposited gently onto a mattress before he turned and slid the paper doors shut. I glanced around, rewarded with a simple, barely decorated room that seemed to mostly exist to house the bed and basic furniture necessities. 

“What are you doing?” I finally snapped, trying to rise to my feet and then quailing when he shot a dark glare my direction. 

“I am still uncertain,” came the growled response as he shrugged out of his linen robe, revealing an impressively muscled torso decorated with a colorful and vicious-looking dragon. He padded back toward me, hands coming to rest on either side of my hips, trapping us at eye-level together. “I am expected to kill you, and yet. I have a fierce urge to have you first.” 

“That is the worst line I’ve heard. Ever.” I snapped, rewarded by an abrupt and crooked grin spreading across his face. 

“The first time I have had to say it,” he replied by way of poor apology and then his lips were millimeters from mine and his hands were sliding up my sides gently. “But I have never taken an unwilling woman.” 

“You’ve hardly left me a choice,” I pointed out sourly, the heat of his body and the slightly spicy scent of his maleness spurring me to lean forward and then press my mouth to his. He jerked as if surprised by the act and then his fingers were sliding along my shoulders, peeling my gown down my body as his tongue danced with mine. Hands freed my breasts from their bindings, cupping and squeezing softly as his finger tips pinched and toyed with my nipples, my groans swallowed up by his lips. He was everywhere, teeth nipping at my neck, his chest pressed against mine, his hands trailing lower and lower until they dragged my skirts away and his thumb settled against that delicate bud between my legs and one finger pressed inward, rubbing, curling, a second, and a third and then they were pumping inside of me until I was sobbing into the crook of his arm, my hips hiked up around his waist. My moans and whimpers seemed to please him immensely, his teeth leaving lines of bruises along my neck and jaw before he abruptly pulled away, leaving me breathless on the bed as he pulled the long ribbon from his hair. 

“Hands behind your back,” he commanded and I obeyed as a spark of fear and nervousness burst to life in my stomach. Bound and helpless now, I tilted my head and then sobbed as he dragged me into his lap, my back against his chest, his fingers returning to their work. He was merciless, pulling one orgasm from me and then another until I had been reduced to a submissive pool of heat in his arms. He shifted slightly and then I was turned so that our faces were pressed close and I could feel the blunt tip of his cock nudging at my entrance. 

“Please-,” I whispered through the hair tangled about my face, my eyes meeting his, and he obliged, surging into me in one smooth motion. I cried out, my head buried against his shoulder, his hands resting at the small of my back as he fucked me, whispering chiming cadences in Japanese as he did so. At some point I became aware that the bonds on my wrist had loosened and I sunk my fingers into his hair, pulling him into a stinging kiss. On and on, our bodies shifting and writhing as he manipulated me deftly, until finally we were lying side to side, his arms wrapped about me, cock buried deep inside. He whispered something against my ear and I felt him lose himself within me, my own pleasure overtaking me seconds later. 

“Are you going to kill me now?” I finally murmured in the aftermath as he stroked the fingers of one hand along my belly, his length still hilted inside of me. 

“No.” He had returned to his stern, implacable English. He gave a slow thrust, rewarded with the gentle sigh of my pleasure. “Dragons do not do well alone. You will remain with me.”

“Oh-,” and then all thought of protest was lost as he pressed me onto my stomach and began to fuck me languidly from behind, pulling me up against his chest and pinning me there. Perhaps I’d seen a dragon after all.


End file.
